sixteen

“I guess no one told you that I woke up earlier today. I don’t remember it very well because the whole world was…is pretty groggy. I didn’t know where I was or why my head hurt. I’m still not very clear on the details.” Benjamin smiles weakly. After the shock of hearing his voice, Ryan headed out to get a nurse who wasn’t nearly as surprised as we were. Once we realized we hadn’t just witnessed a miracle, Ryan not so subtly realized he had somewhere else to be and disappeared.

“So, you were lying there listening just now or did we wake you up?”

“A little of each. I’m glad you and Ryan figured a few things out.”

“Yeah, well I guess it’s been a long time coming, but I’m sorry that we decided to do that in your hospital room. Not exactly entertaining for you.”

He smiles, closing his eyes briefly as if it’s too much effort to keep them open.

“Are you getting tired? Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes and no,” he says, eyes still shut.

“Yes you’re tired but no you don’t want me to leave?” I say hopefully.

“Right and right. Can you tell me what happened? I’m just going to listen with my eyes closed. All this white shit is giving me a headache. If I pass out, don’t be offended.”

I knew he’d hate the “color scheme” in this room! I should go and get his rainbow project from the art room and tack it to the wall opposite his bed. Brighten up the place. Although, it’s so heavy that it would probably fall down and sprinkle colored stones all over the floor, which would piss off the staff.

“Okay. So, you just want me to tell you everything I remember? You don’t have any questions to start?”

“I don’t even remember enough to know what to ask.” He rubs his forehead slightly as if it hurts.

I’m not so sure talking about this right now is a good idea. I feel like I should ask someone’s permission or something like that. But I don’t want to treat him like a baby either. He asked me to do it. I don’t see where I have a choice. I reach back into my memory and take a deep breath.

“Well, we were going down the hill. I was way behind you because I suck at bike riding, which I didn’t tell you when you asked me to come because I didn’t want you to find someone else to go with.” He grins slightly, and I clear my throat before continuing. “So, I was pushing to keep up, and you were already halfway down, going a hundred miles an hour and singing or yelling or something loud. I couldn’t really tell from where I was. Then this big-ass truck comes out of nowhere and whips by me heading down to where you are.” His brow furrows, like he’s trying to think about my words. He rubs his forehead again. He really looks like he’s in some kind of pain.

“Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Should I get the nurse?” I interrupt myself to ask.

“No. It’s all right. Keep going. I’m just trying to follow what you’re saying.” His voice is so weak it makes my stomach do a panic flop, but I keep talking. The sooner I get this over with, the better.

“It slowed down when it got close. You were looking at the passenger side window, so I thought maybe someone said something to you. Then the truck seemed to stop for a second before it suddenly took off. It looked like it swerved toward the shoulder and then headed away so fast that it disappeared. It only took a few seconds for it all to happen, and I was down to your spot right after, but you were gone. Just gone.” The panic flop comes back and turns into a full-on nightmare as I remember that next horrible moment.

“Then I saw you. You’d fallen down the embankment and hurt yourself. I tried to stop the bleeding and then flagged down some help.” I try to keep my tone calm and matter-of-fact so that my voice doesn’t tell him how terrifying it really was.

“Super Jackson,” he whispers, opening his eyes for a second.

“I don’t know about that. But at least you’re here and you’re okay.” I hope.

He nods and then winces.

“I keep forgetting that moving makes me dizzy.”

“Maybe you should sleep now.”

“Okay. Can you stay for a bit?”

“Sure.” Does forever count as a bit?

I sit on the chair beside his bed and watch him. He looks worried, as if my words upset him. I wish I could reach over and touch his face, stroking away the lines that I think I just put there. But I can’t. All I can do is to keep watching until his muscles start to relax and his breathing becomes rhythmic enough that I can tell he’s fallen asleep. I reach over and touch the back of his hand gently and tiptoe out of the room.

“Hi, Jack.” Mrs. Lee is walking toward me, a bag in one hand and what looks like Benjamin’s cell phone in the other.

“Hi, Mrs. Lee. I think he’s sleeping.” She nods.

“That’s good. He’s still very tired. I brought him a few things that I’m hoping will keep him relaxed. Some books to read to him and his phone. It has all of his music.” She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. They look tired and full of worry.

“He’ll be happy to have the music. I think he’d like a can of paint, too. His room is pretty white.”

“That would be a great idea if we could. It might encourage him to keep his eyes open more now that he’s awake. The doctor says to be patient though. The light probably bothers him.”

“That makes sense.” Does it though? Does any of this make sense?

“He has a long road ahead of him, Jack. The doctors said it’s going to take patience and support. His hip will take a lot of recovery time, and they still don’t know about his back. His head injury is significant and might cause some memory loss or trouble with other things.”

“Other things?”

“Well, sometimes this kind of injury can cause fine motor difficulty. For example, make it difficult to draw. That kind of thing.”

“He’s kind of a terrible artist anyway,” I say without thinking. Mrs. Lee lets out a startled laugh as I clamp my hand over my mouth. “Shit! I mean, shoot. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“That’s okay. It’s true. He loves art though, and he’s always telling me how he wishes he could be as talented as you are.”

“Really? I’m always wishing I could be more like him.”

“He is quite a kid.” Her voice hitches a bit on the last word, and she sniffs as she starts digging in her purse for a Kleenex, as if it’s the most important thing in the world at this exact moment.

“He’s really strong. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I’m sure he’ll be fine. That’s comforting coming from a medical genius like myself.

“I know. He’s my champion. I just wish I could understand what happened. He’s a much better athlete than he is an artist, and he’s never fallen like this before.” She looks at me in the same way the cops did. Like she’s looking for answers that for some reason I have hidden away from everyone.

“I wish I understood it too. I just didn’t see. I’m sorry.” I have both hands out toward her, palms up as if I’m trying to hand her my apology.

“Oh, honey. You have nothing to be sorry for! If you hadn’t been there…well, I can’t even let myself think about it.” She reaches over and pulls me into a quick hug, the bag of books bumping gently against my back. It should feel a little weird being hugged by my VP, but here in this hospital, away from school, she’s just Benjamin’s mom, and it feels okay. I hug her back and then we both step away.

“I’m going to go in, so he isn’t alone when he wakes up. Are you heading home?” she asks.

“Yeah, Mom is expecting me for supper. She wanted me to tell you she’s praying for Benjamin and that she lit a candle for him in church on Sunday.” I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell her that or not. I don’t know if people appreciate being prayed for when their religion is different from yours. My mom has this idea that everyone sees the world the same way she does, and that her particular brand of religious beliefs provides some kind of comfort to people who likely see it as just the opposite. Mrs. Lee is Jewish and Mr. Lee is Buddhist. My mom is Catholic. I stay away from anything resembling a church.

“Tell her thank you. It means a lot to me that she would do that.” She smiles gently, looking honestly pleased as she heads into Benjamin’s room.

I watch her go in and sit by his bed, gently taking his hand in hers, leaning forward as she puts her forehead against his and just stays there, face to face. I’m not sure, but it seems like she’s whispering to him.

It looks a bit like a prayer.